Trust
by WoollyOne
Summary: A new mutant is brought to the school, and discovers that she is not alone in her suffering, and that where she thought she had friends, she also has enemies.
1. Chapter 1: Capture

I hear the footsteps behind me and instantly snap awake. There should be no-one here. For three months now I've been hiding out here and never seen another person. I force myself to stand in the cool morning air and start moving. I can hear the footsteps more distinctly now, as well as voices. I think there's about six of them, heading towards me, slowly getting faster. I break into a run, my legs moving without any conscious thought. I shove through the bushes and my jacket snags on the thorns of one, just about ripping in two, but I leave it behind. It's not important now. What is important is not letting them find me. My feet pound against the hard-packed dirt, stones skittering under my feet, and I keep pushing on, even when a decent sized branch painfully hits my collarbone. I hear my heart beating fast in my ears, the stabbing ache in my chest rips through my body, but I keep going. I start heading down a slope that gradually gets steeper, and I pick up speed. I skirt past trees and boulders that are in my way, until I trip on an exposed tree root that I can't dodge fast enough. I go tumbling down the hill, my exposed skin getting scratched in the undergrowth, thorns tearing more holes in my already tattered clothes. My upper back slams into a tree trunk and pushes the air out of my lungs and my head whips back and hits the trunk with a dull thud, and I lie there coughing for a moment before I struggle to my feet and stumble on. I go a few metres before crumpling to the ground, my stomach protesting against my activity without food, and even though I try to keep it down, I still end up vomiting bile, since there's nothing in my stomach. I ignore the throbbing pain in my head and continue, but know my best hope is to hide. The voices are much closer, the footsteps much faster, but here, there is no place to hide. I see shadows darting through the trees, then can only watch as six people dressed in blue and gold bodysuits emerge from the bush and slowly advance on me. I step back until I feel a solid rock wall behind me and sigh. I've run so many times before, but never have I been caught. Normally I'm so much better than this, better than those who thought they could catch me. But this time it just wasn't good enough. They're in a loose V formation pointing towards me, and keep advancing on me, even though I now have nowhere to go.

The man in front is huge, with what look like metal claws protruding from his closed fists. The woman standing beside him, but still just behind him, is dark-skinned, with spiky black and white hair. There are two young men behind them, one even bigger than the man in front, and his body appears to be made entirely of metal. The other man looks normal, but as I look at him more closely, his hands look a pale blue colour and seem to be steaming even though the air is so cold. At the back are two women, one quite short and young with plain brown hair, nothing too special looking about her, and the other is taller and older, again with brown hair, but with a bright white streak in the front of her hair.

"Who are you?" I ask, my voice and body shaking in fear.

"We're here to help you," the dark-skinned woman says, stepping out from behind the man with claws.

"That doesn't answer my question," I counter. "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"We're the X-Men, and we just wanna help you, kid," the man with claws says in a deep voice, stepping out in front again.

"How can you help me?" I ask, wondering if they can actually help me.

"Well you gotta tell us your name, kid," the clawed man says.

"Well what's yours?" I ask, trying to put off the inevitable.

"I'm Logan," he says simply. "And now that I've told you mine, what's your name?"

I sigh softly. I've been dreading revealing my identity to someone for months now, but it looks like I'm just going to have to tell them now. "My name is Darcy O'Hara."

"How old are you, Darcy?" Logan asks.

"I'm fourteen," I say quietly. My eyes dart between each of them, noticing every movement they make, no matter how small.

"Why are you out here?" the dark-skinned woman says.

"Tell me who you are and I might tell you," I reply, looking down at my feet.

"I'm Storm," she says kindly, taking a step towards me. I don't move until she's a few steps away from me, and she extends a hand.

"Don't touch me," I say softly. "You'll only get hurt."

"And you don't want to hurt us?" Storm asks me quizzically.

"I don't need any more blood on my hands," I say darkly, looking up to meet my eyes with hers. She doesn't question it, but does take a step back.

"Do you want to come with us?" she asks after surveying me for a moment.

"Where are you going to take me?" I ask hesitantly.

"Somewhere you can be safe," Storm says. "Somewhere for people like us."

"So you're all-"

"Mutants, yeah," Logan says gruffly. "Look, kid, we can't tell you what to do, but we can tell you what you should do. And if you know what'll be good for you, then you'll come with us, and we'll help you."

"Help me what? What can you do to help me?" I ask.

"Learn to control it," Storm says. "We just want to help you, that's all. We don't want to force you into anything, but you'll be better off with us. Please, just let us help you."

I hesitate before answering. "So if I go with you, then you'll help me learn to control this, and you won't hurt me?"

"That's exactly right," Storm says kindly. "So are you going to come with us?"

I slowly nod, and take a step towards Storm. I shiver, and realise that just standing here in the chilly morning air, without my jacket, was probably not the best idea, and the hair on my arms is standing up on end in protest.

"Are you cold?" Storm asks, appearing genuinely concerned.

"A little," I say. "I'll be right."

"Don't you have a jacket?" she asks.

"I did, but I lost it when I was running before," I admit. "Like I said, I'll be fine."

The four people at the back turn and head off, and Logan follows. Storm walks with me, never taking her piercing blue-grey eyes off me, but it doesn't look like she's making sure I don't do anything stupid, just watching to see if I'm alright. After about ten minutes if solid walking in silence we reach a lethal looking black jet which must be our destination. A door drops down and we walk in, me last in line. I look around as I walk in, and Storm guides me to a seat. Before I sit down, I hear someone come up behind me, and I spin around to see the girl with the white streak in her hair. She has something held out to me and I take it, and see that it's a rough jacket and a pair of thin black gloves.

"Here," she says in a low voice, "you'll need them." She doesn't quite look at me as she speaks, and doesn't sit near me, either.

"Thankyou," I say to her quietly as she walks away. She turns back for a second and gives me a small nod of acknowledgement, but doesn't smile. I sit down and look around as we take off, but fall asleep a few minutes later.

When I wake, I'm in a blank looking room, and in a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines with their dull hum filling the room, along with the unnaturally clean hospital smell. I hear the clacking of high heels echoing through the sterile room. I see a face out of the corner of my eye and slowly turn my head to look, wincing as my neck cracks from the movement. The person moves closer, and I see that it's a young woman, maybe 20 or so, with kind eyes and dark auburn hair.

"Darcy?" she asks me, looking over a file. Her voice is soft and gentle, but she doesn't get too close to me, but her hazel eyes scan my body.

"Yes," I say in a croaky voice.

She gives me a smile, and continues forwards until she's right beside my bed. She sits on the wheeled stool beside me and sets the file down on my bedside table. She turns to me and locks eyes with me, but I look away after a few seconds.

"Darcy O'Hara, that's your name?" she asks. I nod in reply, and she rests a warm, gloved hand on my arm. I initially flinch, but relax when all she does is gently rub my upper arm soothingly. "My name is Dr Laura Gardner, but you can just call me Laura, OK?" I nod slowly, but that's all the recognition she needs. "You're fourteen, aren't you?" I nod again. "Darcy, I need to ask you some questions, if that's alright with you," she says, picking up the file again.

"Ask away," I say with a weak smile. She seems nice, and genuinely helpful, so I'm not worried.

"Thankyou. So, Darcy, how long were you living out there?"

"You mean in the bush?" I ask. She nods in reply. "About three months."

"When was the last time you ate? You're pretty thin."

I shrug slightly, my shoulders sore. "I dunno, probably about a week ago. I never really had much to eat at all though."

She quickly writes it down, and then turns back to me. "Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions or allergies? Any injuries we should know about?"

"No injuries or allergies, but I am asthmatic."

"Really badly or…?"

"No, not too bad; I never really used my puffer, except if I was doing a lot of sport."

"OK, we still need to get you one just in case. Do you mind if I run a few tests on you?"

"As long as you don't hurt me," I say.

"Darcy, hurting you is the last thing I want to do."

"I don't want to hurt you, either," I say, a bit louder this time.

"You won't, I'll make sure. Did you sleep well? I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks, I haven't slept this well in months."

"So Darcy, before we begin, what exactly is your mutation, or, at least, what you know of it?"

"From what I can tell, I have a kind of electrical charge on my skin, and anybody who touches my skin gets an electric shock. I don't know much more than that though; I just kind of left before anything else happened."

"So why exactly were you living out there?" she asks, putting down the file again, focussing all her attention on me. We lock eyes again, but this time I don't look away.

"I killed my baby sister."


	2. Chapter 2: Examination

"You what?" Laura asks, sounding as if she can't believe her own ears.

"You heard me right, I killed my baby sister," I say. "I didn't murder her though, I never loved anyone so much as I did little Gracie. I swore I'd protect her, but I just couldn't help it."

"So what happened?" she asks, wheeling a little closer.

"I went to give her a goodnight kiss, and my powers manifested. The power was just too much for her, and she died. My mum found her about an hour later and started screaming, and they blamed me, since I was the last one with her. My dad pulled out his gun and tried to kill me. They weren't the nicest people. I just ran. There wasn't anything else I could do. Sure, they tried to find me, but they just ended up dead."

"You mean you killed them?" she asks.

I nod. "I just feel so guilty."

"You're safe here, Darcy," Laura says calmly. "Nobody here is trying to harm you."

"Can we just forget about my old life? I'd rather keep it between us."

"Of course," she says. "I fully understand about confidentiality, and if this is something you don't want anyone else to know about, I'm perfectly happy to keep it between us."

"Thankyou," I say. I don't like people knowing about my past, but I kind of had to tell her.

"Now Darcy, I need to perform a physical examination to assess your physical health."

"I don't want to hurt you," I repeat, worried that something will go wrong.

"I will take all necessary precautions to ensure that this causes minimal discomfort to both of us," she says calmly. "This needs to be done as soon as possible, and it can't wait any longer."

I sigh in resignation. "What do I have to do?"

"Not much, I just need to take a few measurements, check your vitals, that kind of thing. It shouldn't take too long."

"I don't see a problem with it."

"Let's get started then," she says. "If you could just hop up for a minute, we can begin."

She helps me sit up; removing the various tubes from my left arm as she does so, and I slowly swing myself off the bed once she's done, noting the white t-shirt and shorts I'm now wearing, and the lack of dirt on my body. I follow her to the middle of the room where she snaps on a pair of white latex gloves, and then gets me to stand on the scales to record my weight, which is only about thirty kilos. She then records my height, one metre, fifty-two centimetres, and then goes to her desk and pulls out a stethoscope from the top drawer. She heads back to me, warming the stethoscope in the palm of her hand as she walks.

"Now Darcy, this might be a bit cold, but it'll all be over soon, OK?"

"OK," I reply, trembling a little. I never liked going to the doctor and getting a check-up, but I know this has to be done.

"Just relax, Darcy," she says, rubbing my arm again. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to listen to your heart, check that everything's alright. You're safe with me."

I nod slightly, and she stands behind me, gently lifting up my shirt and placing the cool metal on my back. I shiver as it touches me, but relax after a minute when it warms to my skin. After a little bit, she removes it and returns to my front, placing it on my abdomen, doing the same as she did to my back. After a little while, she moves it up higher, placing it over my ribs, just under my breast. She leaves it there for a bit longer this time, then removes it and writes something down in my file.

"You're heart rate's 89 beats a minute," she tells me. "A little high, but I do understand that you're a little nervous, so it's to be expected."

"Are we done with the stethoscope?" I ask, not liking the feel of the cold metal on my bare skin.

She lets out a light laugh. "No, not yet," she says, smiling gently at me. "I just need to have a listen to your lungs, check your breathing's fine, and then we're done with the stethoscope. Not many people do like it."

I nod, and let her continue, knowing it's all to make sure that I'm OK. She lifts my shirt again and places the cold metal back on my chest.

"Breathe in for me," she says calmly, listening closely as my lungs fill. "And breathe out," she says. She does this a few times, moving the stethoscope each time, and then puts it back in her drawer, writing something in my file before turning back to me.

"You're a little wheezy, but we'll get some ventolin into you after this."

I nod, and she pulls a blood pressure monitor from her desk drawer. She gets me to sit on the operating table while she straps it tightly around my upper arm and turns it on. I squirm uncomfortably as it squeezes around my arm, but it's over in a few minutes, and she takes the reading and writes it down.

"A hundred and thirty-three over eighty-seven," she says. "Not too bad, quite high, but I'll take the readings again in a few hours, when you're a little more relaxed."

"So you're going to repeat all of this later?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, but yes," she says. "I know you don't like it, but it's a necessary evil. I have to do this, but I'm trying to make you as comfortable as possible."

"I know, and I appreciate that, but it's hard for me. I haven't had human contact for three months. It's just, weird."

"It'll all be over soon, Darcy. I promise."

We get back to the exam, and she takes the pulse from my neck, her slender fingers warm against my cool skin. She records it as 87 beats per minute, which she tells me is a little high for my age, but I am a bit on edge, so it's expected.

"Darcy, I'm just going to take your oral temperature now," she says, pulling an electronic thermometer from her drawer. "I just need you to put this under your tongue; it doesn't take long."

She hands me the thermometer and I carefully place it under my tongue, and wait for the reading.

"It beeps when it's done," Laura calls over her shoulder as she writes something down in my file. When it starts beeping, I pull it from my mouth and read the numbers on the little screen, which mean absolutely nothing to me.

"What's the reading?" she calls.

I hand her the thermometer, which she reads and writes down the reading of before putting away.

"It's lower than it should be," Laura says slightly worriedly. "It's only 36∙1, and it's meant to be at least 36∙3, otherwise it could be dangerous."

"Why is it so low?" I ask.

"You're extremely underweight, so you have a lower body fat percentage. That means that you can't retain heat as well, and it's easier for you to get cold. Until you put some weight back on, you'll need to keep warm. Plus you haven't eaten anything, so your body can't produce heat. I'll get you something to eat after this."

"OK. Is there anything else you need to do, or can I go?"

She laughs lightly. "Even when I'm done for now, you still have to stay here for a couple of days before you can go up and meet the other students. And I'm not quite done yet, I still need to check your respiratory rate and make sure your bones and internal organs are fine."

"How long will that take?" I ask, getting more nervous the longer this goes on.

"Not long now, Darcy," she says. "I know you don't like it, but we're nearly done. Then I'll get you whatever you need. Right now, I just need you to lie down here."

She helps me lie back down on the operating table, and places a gentle hand on my chest.

"I just need you to breathe normally for a minute," Laura says. "This is the easiest one, so just relax."

I breathe as I'm instructed, and she tells me that I have a rate of twenty breaths per minute, which is slightly higher than the average rate for my age, but she knows I'm nervous about this. She knew it since she started this, and she's trying to be easy on me, but the fact still remains that I'm scared shitless by this place. That's why she's running the tests again later, when I'm more comfortable around her, and in this place. At least, that's what I reckon.

"Just one more test, and then we're done," she says, smiling down gently at me. "This one isn't too pleasant, but just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."

"What do you need to do?" I ask, propping myself up on one elbow to look at her better.

"I just need to have a feel of your spine, make sure that's alright, as well as your collarbone. I heard you had a bit of a nasty run-in with a tree."

I nod sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"I also just need to check your internal organs."

"How are you going to do that?" I ask, now even more nervous.

"Relax, Darcy," she says. "It doesn't involve anything too painful, I just need to feel your abdomen, and from there I can feel your internal organs, and make sure there aren't any pressing issues. While you were asleep I did a CT scan, but I still need to check it just in case. That's the most uncomfortable part of this procedure, but I'll try not to hurt you. If I do, just tell me, OK?"

I nod slowly, and lie back down on the table.

"If you could roll over, I'll start with your spine," she says. I roll over, and feel her fingers at my back, gently probing my spine, and slowly moving upwards, until she's near my head. "Where did you hit?" she asks, her fingers remaining on my neck.

"I hit my upper back, but my head went back, and my neck's a bit sore," I admit. "So is my collarbone. I ran into a branch before I tripped."

"I see," she says, her fingers moving higher now. "Does it hurt here?" she asks as she presses a bit harder on a point in my neck.

"A little," I say, and she asks the same thing a few times, each time with her fingers moved up a bit higher. Once she's done with my spine, she helps me roll back over, and begins examining my collarbone with a gentle hand.

"I couldn't see a break on the scan, but there's certainly a painful looking bruise there now," she says. "That should be OK, just a bit tender."

"Are we nearly done?" I ask, hoping she'll say yes.

"Not quite yet, but almost. Just arch your back for a second," she says, slipping the bottom of my shirt up so she can have unrestricted access my abdomen. "Thankyou," she says as I lower my back. "This shouldn't take long, but it might be a bit uncomfortable. Just think of something good, and it'll all be over soon."

Her gentle fingers glide over my skin, pressing down occasionally, sometimes harder, sometimes not. After maybe five minutes, she presses down on one particular spot and I shut my eyes, drawing in a sharp breath.

"That hurts?" she asks, worry in her voice.

"Yeah," I say. "Feels like someone's stabbing me when you do that."

"Your stomach is completely empty, so that would be causing you some pain. I'll redo all the tests after we've got some food and medicine into you. How does that sound?"

"Sounds pretty good," I say with a weak half-smile.

"Let's go up to the kitchen then. I'll get you something to eat, and then we need to go see the others. It's important. I won't tell them what you told me though. I understand your privacy, and I accept that."

She helps me sit up and get off the table, and I slip on a pair of white canvas shoes. She hands me the jacket and gloves that the girl gave me on the jet.

"Put these on. I was wondering if I could take some blood from you at some point too, I'm interested in running a few tests on it to see if I can find your mutation," she says while removing her gloves.

"How exactly does that work?" I ask as I pull on my gloves, which come to my elbows.

"I isolate the X in the DNA, which is the source of the mutation. If I can isolate the X, then, in theory, I can separate and 'read' the X like I would with the DNA. That's only in theory though. I've never actually tried it."

I've put on the jacket by now, leaving it open, and she leads me out of the room and up into the kitchen.

I sit down on a stool next to the bench, and she pulls something dark blue out of her pocket and hands it to me. Upon inspection, I see that it's an inhaler. I take a couple of puffs and hand it back to her, and she slips it back into her pocket. While she cooks, she tells me about herself. I find out that she's 26, and a telepath.

"That's how they found you. The man that founded this school, Professor Charles Xavier, built a machine called Cerebro that, when used by a telepath, can connect with every human, and every mutant, on the planet. It can track them, and that's how I found you. I saw that you were weak, and sent the team to collect you and bring you back here."

By the time she's finished telling me all of this, there's a plate of steaming hot bacon and eggs in front of me. I finish the whole plateful, and then she stands and leads me to an office, where I see the people that came to get me all standing, watching as I walk in.

"Good morning, Darcy."


	3. Chapter 3: Introductions

"Morning," I reply, my eyes darting around the room.

"Just as you requested, Storm," Laura says. "A healthy, although not too happy, Darcy."

"Is there anything wrong?" Storm asks from her seat behind the grand wooden desk.

"Nothing that won't come right with time," Laura says calmly, resting her now un-gloved hand on my shoulder.

"Thankyou Laura," Storm says. "Now, Darcy," she says, turning to me. "I trust you're feeling better now?"

"Better than I have in a while, yes," I say tightly, noticing that all the people that came to get me are here now. "What is this place?"

"This is the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters," Storm says. "It's a place for people like you. A place where mutants can be safe. A place that, if you choose to accept, you can call home."

"You want me to stay here?"

"We believe that it would be best for you," Storm says diplomatically.

"So who are all these guys?" I ask, gesturing to the other people in the room.

The young girl with the brown hair steps forward and holds out her hand, which I hesitantly take. "I'm Kitty Pryde," she says with a smile. "People call me Shadowcat. I can phase through solid objects."

"So basically you can walk through walls," I say, giving her a half-smile.

She laughs. "Pretty much," she says.

The huge man that I think turns into metal steps forward then, and grips my hand in a strong handshake. "Pete," he says in a gravelly voice. "They call me Colossus."

"Let me guess, metal man?" I ask, a small smile playing on my lips. In response, the hand he's holding mine in turns to metal.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," he says.

The other man comes over then, and shakes my hand. "Hi, I'm Bobby Drake. They call me Iceman." To prove this, his hand turns to ice, freezing around mine.

"I wonder why," I say with a laugh.

The last girl in the room reluctantly approaches me, and I notice that she too is wearing a pair of brown elbow-length gloves. "I'm Rogue," she says simply, coolly, taking my hand for only a second, stepping back almost immediately.

"So Darcy, would you be willing to stay here?" Storm asks. "We can help you learn to control your gift. We think it would be best for you to stay here."

"You do need medical treatment," Laura says softly in my ear.

I pause, thinking about my options. "Fine," I say after a moment, "I'll stay."

"Excellent," Storm says. "Now there's just the matter of sleeping arrangements after you're cleared from the infirmary."

"Morgan's got a spare bed in her room," Kitty says. "Why don't they share?"

"Morgan does have a bit of a temper though," Laura says. "Are you sure she'd accept a roommate?"

"I'll talk to her about it," Kitty pipes up. "She might listen to me."

"Thanks Kitty, do you want to go find her now and discuss it with her? The sooner we do it, the better."

"Can I take her back down now?" Laura asks.

"I think that's all for now. Rogue, if I could just speak with you for a moment," Storm says as Laura leads me back down to the infirmary.

"So I guess this is home now," I say quietly as Laura leads me through the maze of hallways.

"I guess it is," Laura says, nodding slowly. "I'll always be here for you. If you just need to talk to someone then come find me and we can have a chat."

"Thanks," I say, looking up at her. "So how long have been here for?"

"A couple of years now," she says, opening the doors.

"Do you like it here?"

"Yes, I do. Everyone around you just wants to help you. You don't have to worry about people hating you for who you are. It's a safe haven."

"So I'll be safe here?" I ask timidly as we near my bed.

"You'll be perfectly safe with us," she replies, lifting me onto the edge of the bed. "I'm just going to put you back on the drip and leave you to get some more sleep, and then I'll run those tests again when you wake up."

I lie down and Laura pulls the blanket over me, and I wince as she pushes the needle back into my arm, taping it in place. I listen to her footsteps fade as she leaves the room, and fall asleep quickly, into a dreamless sleep.

When I wake again, I'm still alone. I lie still, and wait for Laura to return. After twenty minutes or so, she comes back, smiling when she sees I'm awake.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks, heading over to my bed.

"Yeah, I slept pretty well. I just feel so drained though, even though I've slept so much."

"You're just catching up on all the sleep you've missed. While you're down here, sleep as much as you can. You'll be back to normal pretty soon, but until then, you're going to be feeling pretty crappy."

"So when can I get out of here?" I ask as she pulls the drip from my arm.

"In about two days I reckon. As long as you have your strength back by then, you can go up to your room."

I sit up and Laura helps me off the bed and leads me back to the operating table to run the tests again. It goes quicker this time, now that I know what I need to do. My temperature's 36∙4 degrees now, so the food and jacket have paid off. My blood pressure's lower now, as well as my heart rate, pulse and respiratory rate. She pulls out the stethoscope again, warming it in her palm, and returns to me.  
"Has the ventolin worked?" she asks, her fingers playing with the hem of my shirt.

"Yeah, my breathing feels a bit easier now," I say.

"I'll just have a listen, and then I'll check your organs again, and then you can go back to bed," she says.

"What if I'm not tired?" I ask.

"Are you good at science?" she asks me.

I shrug. "More or less; I was top of the class before I left."

"Well, then you can give me a hand with the research I'm doing," she says. "I think you'll find it interesting."

"I'll take your word for it," I say, trying to relax. Sure, I'm a bit more relaxed now than I was before, but having someone openly touch my skin is putting me on edge.

She gently lifts up my shirt and places the cold metal disc on my chest. "Breathe in for me," she says, listening as I do so. "And breathe out," she says. I take controlled breaths that I fight to keep steady. "It all sounds clear," she says after a few minutes. "I just need to check your organs, and then you can go back to bed or give me a hand."

I lie back on the operating table, and Laura gently probes my abdomen, the sore spot I had before no longer there. She pronounces me in good health, and I decide I've had enough of the bed for now, so I follow her out to her lab, throwing on my jacket as I go. When we arrive, I don't recognise much of the equipment, but what catches my eye is a rack on one wall with vials of what look like blood in them.

"They're samples from a few people here," she explains. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind letting me take a sample from you. Since we don't know much about your abilities, if we find anything useful, we might be able to figure out exactly what you can do."

"Will it hurt?" I ask timidly. Needles honestly terrify me; I used to have panic attacks and had to be held down by doctors just so they could give me a flu shot every year. Giving blood was never high on my bucket list.

"That depends on how you react to it. If you try to relax, then it shouldn't hurt much at all. If you tense up, then yes, it will hurt a lot more."

"I'll give it a shot," I say, willing to help her research, especially if it could help me figure out what my mutation is.

"Excellent," she says, clapping her hands together. "If we do it now, then we can get started on decoding this DNA."

She heads over to a cabinet which she proceeds to unlock, pulling out a syringe and thin needle. I start trembling again, but force myself to relax. I don't want any unnecessary pain. She sits me down in a chair and turns over my arm, lowering the needle to my skin. I relax my arm as the needle enters, and avoid letting the noise of pain building in my throat make an appearance. It's over in less than a minute, and she deposits the blood into a vial and we get to work. I don't do much, mostly just grabbing some things for her, or writing stuff down, but occasionally I make a comment on some findings, but only occasionally. After a few hours I go back to bed, my eyelids drooping and fighting to stay awake.

"Darcy," a gentle voice calls. "Darcy, wake up."

My eyelids flutter as I adjust to the light, until I can make out Laura standing at the end of my bed.

She smiles. "I figured I probably shouldn't try and shake you awake."

I return a smile. "No, that probably wouldn't go down too well." I slowly sit myself up, watching Laura closely. "So why exactly did you wake me up?"

"Storm wanted to see you. I tried to convince her to put it off until you woke up yourself, but she said it couldn't wait. I'm sorry, I didn't want to, but she is in charge of this place, so I kind of had to listen to her."

I yawn. "Don't worry about it. Where is she?"

"She's just outside. Are you ready, or do you need a couple of minutes?"

"No, I'll be fine, let her in."

"Alright then," she says, heading back over to the door, opening it and letting Storm inside.

"Thankyou, Laura," she says calmly. "If you could give us a few minutes of privacy, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course," Laura says, stepping out. "I'll be back with some lunch for you when you're done," she adds, shutting the door behind her.

My stomach lets out an embarrassingly growl at that and I blush. "Sorry about that," I say.

"Don't worry my dear," Storm says calmly. "It happens to everyone. Now, I haven't come here purely for a social call, although I do hope you're well. I do have some serious matters to discuss with you. Firstly, we have found a room for you, and Kitty has spoken with Morgan, who has agreed to share her room with you. I must warn you, she is quite hot-tempered, but if you spend the time to get close to her, she is very nice. Secondly, we were wondering if you wanted to go back home for a little while to get some of your belongings."

"There's nothing left for me there," I say, looking her dead in the eye. "If there was I would have stayed there. That's the only reason I came with you; because I had nothing left."

She lowers her gaze slightly at this and nods. "Thankyou, Darcy," she says. "I hope to see you up and about very soon. Until then, feel better and good day." She walks out of the room and Laura enters a couple of minutes later with a tray of food for me. She sets it down on my bedside table and smiles gently at me.

"I'll leave you to eat in peace," she says. "I have some work to do, and I'll come back in a couple of hours to check on you, OK?"

"Sure," I reply. "Thanks for this."

"No problem; it's my job to look after you," she says. "If you're happy then I've done my job well. I'll leave you to it."

She smiles as she leaves, and I'm already feeling so much better. She wants to help me, make me feel better and find out what I really am. But that other girl, Rogue, I don't know what she has against me, but it's unsettling. I don't know what to do, but I'll just leave it and see what eventuates.

After all, it's not like this is the first time someone's hated me.


	4. Chapter 4: Rooms

"Alright Darcy, you're free to go now. I'll go grab you some clothes and then I'll take you to your room."

I lope back over to my bed and pick up the books and pens sitting on my bedside table and slip them into a brown leather messenger bag with a shiny brass buckle that Laura found, sitting the bag on the bed while I wait for Laura. She returns after a few minutes with a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and black canvas shoes. I change and sling the bag over my shoulder, following Laura out of the infirmary and into the school. She leads me to an oak door with a brass plate reading Girls' Dorm on it, opens it, and then we head down the corridor until we reach room number 16. It too has a brass plate on it, which has the single name Morgan Johnson engraved in it. Laura knocks twice on the door and waits for a few moments until we hear footsteps, and the doorknob twists until the door swings open, revealing a dark haired girl with blackish-brown eyes and pale skin, wearing a pair of black Adidas trackpants, a faded blue Volcom hoodie, and brown slipper boots. She runs her eyes over me wordlessly, nodding slightly to herself after a moment.

"Morning Morgan," Laura says. "This is Darcy, your-"

"Roommate. Yeah, I got that," she replies sullenly. She holds out a hand to me, which I take, wincing slightly as she shakes my hand in a crushing grip. "I'm Morgan. Come on in and I'll tell you how it works around here."

Laura squeezes my shoulder before I walk in, and Morgan shuts the door behind me. She strides over to a made-up bed, and gestures for me to sit on the other bed, which has sheets folded neatly at the end. I sit down and face her, and she looks me over again, frowning slightly.

"I have some rules in here," she begins after a minute. "My stuff is on this side. You don't touch my stuff unless I say you can. You don't borrow my stuff unless I say you can. Got that?" I nod. "Good. Now, you don't make noise unless I'm not here, or if I say it's fine. That means if you want music, you go somewhere else, or you get some headphones. Also, don't wake me up if I'm asleep, unless there's a fire or something else drastic like that. And if I am asleep, or trying to sleep, you don't make _any _noise."

I nod again. "Seems fair." It doesn't, but I don't dare disagree.

"So; what can you do?"

"I've got an electrical charge on my skin. If anybody touches my skin, they get an electric shock, and the power of it depends on my mood. Apparently I might be able to learn to control it, but that will take time. What can you do?"

"My skin is impenetrable, unable to be pierced or cut. I can also go indefinitely without air."

"That's pretty cool. So why are you here? Your gift isn't a curse; people can't notice it."

"I got sick of my family, so I ran away. I found this place while I was wandering around the streets a couple of years ago, and they took me in. Why are you here?"

"My parents found out about my power and tried to kill me. I ran away and lived in the bush for a few months, but these guys came and found me and brought me back here with them."

"Why did they get you? What's so special about you?"

I shrug. "How should I know? I only went with them 'cause I was dying out there. They gave me the choice, but I didn't have another option."

She looks at me carefully again, before nodding slightly and standing, heading for the door. She pauses with her hand on the doorknob and turns back to me. "I'll leave you to get settled in." She doesn't say it in a friendly tone, more annoyed than anything. I don't really care though; this is better than anything I've had in a long time, so I'm not complaining.

I stand up after a few minutes of just sitting and looking around and make my bed. I slip on the plain, off-white fitted sheet, and slide the matching pillowcase over the cheap looking pillow, tossing it up to the top of the bed. I unfold the fleecy navy blue blanket and lay it over the bed, then flop down onto it, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. I lay there for half an hour or so, until I hear the door open. I sit bolt upright, my head whipping round to look at the door. I relax when I see it's only Kitty, and give her a small smile. She smiles back and sits on the bed next to me.

"Where's Morgan?" she asks.

I shrug. "No idea. She talked to me for a bit and then left. She didn't say where she was going," I add.

"And she was fine with you coming in here?"

I shrug again. "I guess. We didn't really talk that much, so I wouldn't know. She didn't sound too angry or anything like that."

She sighs softly. "I'll talk to her at dinner, then," she murmurs to herself. "I'll leave you to it," she says to me, leaving the room. I lie back down on the bed and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep.

I wake to the sound of someone calling my name and roll over to see Morgan standing impatiently in the doorway.

"It's time for dinner," she says. I get up and head out the door, closing it behind me. I follow her through the building until we reach the dining room and see everyone else in there. I get a few stares when I walk in, but they're curious looks, not accusatory looks. Morgan takes two plates from the counter and hands me one, which I take gratefully. It's spaghetti Bolognese, and I sit down next to Morgan, who's sitting with some of her friends. They watch me as I sit down, take in the gloves, and a couple shuffle uneasily in their seats. Morgan introduces me to them while we eat, and they keep asking me questions; none that I wouldn't answer, but I still find it odd to be around so many people.

"What's with the gloves?" one girl, Jessie I think, asks me. "One of the older girls wears the same kind of gloves. She can do something that knocks people out, that's why she has to wear them."

I think back to Rogue, and spot her watching me from the other side of the room. "Yeah, I'm kind of like that. But I'm more…" I pause for a moment, thinking of the right word. "Electric."

"So if we touch you, we'll get shocked?" another girl, Bec, asks. She seems pretty clever, and she's managed to make the connections before any of the others. I nod, and the girls exchange nervous glances.

"Can you do it now?" Holly asks.

I shake my head in alarm. "No, I can't control it. I'd only end up hurting someone."

"So it's powerful?" Bec asks thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure how powerful it gets, but it can kill people."

They shift uneasily again, and I sigh. I've done it again; managed to scare them off.

After dinner I get ambushed by Laura. She takes me down to the lab, saying she wants to show me something. I see complicated diagrams on her whiteboard, and data flashing on the computer screens. She grins at me and hands me a crisp sheet of paper. The words and numbers mean nothing to me, so she elaborates.

"I decoded it," she says simply, a huge smile on her face. She laughs. "I figured it out; I managed to break it down."

"So this is…" I say, realisation slowly dawning on me.

"Your mutation," she says proudly, finishing my sentence for me. "You have an electrical charge on your skin that will not conduct through anything, except for certain rare metals. Aside from that, the only way you can shock someone is to have direct skin-to-skin contact. The power varies, ranging from a static shock to a Taser, though the exact range is unknown. I'd have to test that. You can control this, with extensive training. It is exhausting, but Rogue has managed to control her gift, and I have organised for her to train you. It will take time, but it can be done. Rogue is a shining example of that."

"When does it start?"

"Your regular training begins tomorrow, and I will organise a time for Rogue to train you separately."

"How long will it take?" I ask.

"To be honest, I don't know. Rogue is a very powerful mutant, and it took her over five _years_ to learn. She's much more experienced than you, and her powers are much greater. It might take a decade or more for you to learn."

"It's better than nothing," I say. And I know I'm right. It's at the very least something to hope for.

"Come on now, it's time for you to go to bed. Training starts tomorrow morning, and you'll need to be well-rested." She leads me back to my room, the path still unfamiliar to me, and leaves me at the door. I open the door and step inside, and find ten pairs of eyes staring at me. Morgan and her friends are lounging around the room, and I have a funny feeling they were talking about me. They leave somewhat awkwardly, not making eye contact with me, but still looking at me warily. Morgan hands me a stack of clothes.

"These are for you. I don't need them anymore, and they'll do until you can buy your own."

"Thanks," I say, placing the stack on a shelf in the small wardrobe on my side of the room. I put on a pair of simple blue and pink check pyjamas and slide under the blanket, letting my eyelids slide shut gratefully, my first night sleeping in a proper bed.

The ray of sunlight beaming through the chink in the curtains wakes me up. It's shining right in my eye, and I sit up and rub my eyes groggily. Morgan is stirring, but I don't try and wake her. She wakes up herself in a few minutes and glances over at me. We get changed, her into what she was wearing yesterday, and me into a pair of fleecy charcoal grey trackpants and a loose navy blue t-shirt, along with the shoes I got yesterday and my gloves. We head down to breakfast and eat quickly, not wanting to be late for training. One the way, Morgan explains what we do in training.

"We train in the gym most of the time, but sometimes we train in the Danger Room. It's this massive room that make illusions, to simulate situations where we might need to use our powers as a team, or sometimes individually. We work on controlling our powers and strengthening them, and sometimes it's just like P.E. class."

"So how long does it go for?"

"Until lunchtime, then we have regular classes until mid-afternoon."

We reach the gym and go inside, and Kitty approaches me as soon as she sees me, handing me a package wrapped in brown paper.

"Here's your training uniform," she says with a smile. "Your locker's number 17. Morgan will show you where it is."

Morgan leads me to the locker room and we change into our uniforms, skin-tight black leather jumpsuits with X shaped buckles on the short belt around the waist, and matching boots. I find my locker and put my clothes inside, but leave my gloves on, following Morgan out into the gym. The group of thirty or so students stand in a loose semicircle, waiting for our teachers to arrive. Storm enters the room and smiles.

"Good morning, are you all ready to begin?" We all nod. "Good. Today we're going to be working on controlling our gifts. We have set up various things to aid you in your training, and we will come around to help you as we see fit. Darcy, these will probably be easier to work with than your regular ones." She tosses me a wad of something black, and I unfold them and see that it's a pair of black leather gloves that match my suit. Storm dismisses us and I head back to the locker room to change my gloves. This new pair is a normal length, just past my wrists and tight around my hands. I return to the gym and glance around at everyone. They're all training, and I wonder how I'm meant to train if I just end up hurting people with my power. I hear footsteps behind me and spin around in alarm.

"Come with me," Rogue says flatly. "It's time to begin your training."


End file.
